Sacramental Sausage
by TheMadKatter13
Summary: [TTF 57/SWN 12] \on-the-star-side said: If you're not doing these anymore just say. Otherwise your invitation is too good to pass up c Shota Steve Rogers and Father Thanos. He saves Steve cause he wants his butt v v Adult Priest Thanos / Shota Altar Boy Steve


**SUMMARY: on-the-star-side said: If you're not doing these anymore just say. Otherwise your invitation is too good to pass up c= Shota Steve Rogers and Father Thanos. He saves Steve cause he wants his butt v_v Adult Priest Thanos / Shota Altar Boy Steve**

 **AO3 TAGS: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Adult Thanos, Priests, Priest Thanos, Shota, Shota Steve Rogers, Altar Boy Steve Rogers, Church Sex, Underage Sex, Extremely Underage, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Top Thanos, Bottom Steve Rogers, Anal, Anal Sex, Size Difference, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spitefic**

 **AN: Well, I was still doing them when this was sent but I'm not accepting new ones now (*despairing lol*) so here is my hella late response. (And it's okay if you forgot you sent this prompt, but this is the last one from you so you don't have to keep an eye out for any more.)**

 **Also I'm like… 75% certain you were looking for a Thanos & Gamora situation but I saw Father Thanos and my mind went somewhere... slightly different… lol On that note, please know that I was not raised in any kind of religious environment and know absolutely nothing of the Catholic Church save what I've heard through movies and TV. *eyes Matt Murdock***

 **On another note, if Catholic hell actually exists, and nothing else I've done has earned me a ticket, I'm fairly certain this will do the trick. Like, the title alone will probably get me that Golden Ticket.**

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"Steven?"

Steven grit his teeth, finished his prayer like his mama taught him, crossed himself, and propelled his aching body from his knees to his feet. Bucky always joked that Steve was an old man born in a kid's body.

"Yes, Father Thanos?" he asked, turning to face the priest. The priest who always looked the other way when Steve and Bucky needed something to eat and a place to sleep when their mamas couldn't afford to feed them or when Steve's mama was in the hospital and Bucky's mama couldn't house him. Father Thanos knew that they weren't orphans, but he looked the other way. For a price.

"Come, Steven, it's time for your sacrament."

Steve bowed his head to hide his expression as the priest turned away. He had never hated doing anything as much as he hated taking sacrament from Father Thanos. But it was necessary. This was the only church that could take him 'n' Bucky when they needed it, and this was the only way this church _would_ take them.

He could barely reach the lock on the door to Father Thanos's room after he closed it behind him; Buck always poked fun that he would shoot up like a bean sprout when he grew up but Steve doubted it - the doctors weren't sure he would live to see puberty. When he turned around, Father Thanos was already removing his robes, revealing the builder's body he had from his life before the church. Steve didn't like to look but he couldn't get through life or get around his problems by avoiding them, so he made himself watch the priest stroke his member, as long as Steve's forearm and twice as thick, from soft to hard.

There was nothing about what was coming next that Steve liked or even enjoyed. At least, not with Father Thanos. Buck 'n' him did the same thing sometimes in the winter, when they couldn't get warm enough to fall asleep. Only difference was that Steve actually liked taking Sacrament from Bucky. It made him warm, inside and out. Happy. Taking Sacrament from the priest just made Steve feel… dirty.

Father Thanos beckoned him and Steve obediently crossed the room and climbed up onto the bed, so much taller than any bed he normally used, so much taller that his lungs were slightly strained when he made it to the top. As usual, Father Thanos didn't help him, and Steve wasn't sure he'd accept the priest's help anyway.

Sometimes, he wished that he could tell someone what he was forced to do for Bucky and him. But even if he did, even if he tried to shift the responsibility of his own choices onto someone else, it wasn't safe to tell anyone. Not Bucky, not the Church, and not the cops - Steve couldn't rely on Bucky not to try to murder Thanos for what he wanted from Steve; there was no guarantee that the replacement priest (from either murder or the Church's interference) wouldn't be worse, like Steve had heard from city kids drifting through; and no cop would believe the word of the child of an Irish immigrant over that of a priest.

"Have you decided to renounce your faith, Steven?" Father Thanos asked, and Steve's head snapped up. His thoughts had drifted from him before they'd even started and he was still kneeling by the man's feet.

"No, Father," he said, shaking his head and standing up.

The altar boy robes he always wore when he was at the church were far thicker and warmer than his own clothes, efficient at keeping the cold at bay, so Steve didn't bother removing them, but he did reach under them to remove his shorts. The fabric shifting down his legs and leaving him bare under his robes made tremors set in, though by now, Steve knew it was from a sick anticipation and not from the loss of a layer of clothes. His shorts were left next to the priest's feet as Steve made his way up the man's legs and stood with one foot on either side of his thighs, the man's face uncomfortably close to his belly.

Father Thanos's hand was already gleaming with holy oil in the light before it disappeared beneath Steve's robes, the heat of them traveling up the back of one leg before two fingers found his hole. They traced it for a moment before pushing in as one, making Steve grit his teeth as the man's knuckles came to rest against his rim. They stayed in for only a moment before retreating again, and Steve resigned himself to that being all he was going to get. This, like always, was going to make him sore for days, wearing off only a day or two before he was to do it again.

"Take your sacrament, Steven," the priest commanded. "You know I cannot help you with this."

Steve was pretty sure that was a lie because Bucky helped himself all the time, but he couldn't argue when everything relied on him keeping his mouth shut for once. Buck'd probably faint from disbelief if he could see Steve now, not stepping up for himself the one time he probably should. Instead, Steve just said "Yes, Father," as he nodded and hiked his robes up around his waist. Holding them out of the way, he reached down to wrap what he could of his fingers around the priest's manhood, and squatted until he could feel the round head against his hole.

Every part of this was terrible, but in the start of things, this part was always the worst. It was the part that hurt the worst, without even the hint of relief or pleasure to take the edge off. Depending on his mood though, sometimes the pleasure was the worst, when his body liked what was happening even when Steve's stomach was roiling.

With every part of his body loose except for the hard clench of his jaw, Steve let gravity pull him down onto the thick shaft. It split him open, sent pain sparking through his body until it lit up his world and sent his vision white. Under his free palm, set to Father Thanos's chest for balance, there was a deep rumble of pleasure that seemed to vibrate the very air around them and Steve's own body. It didn't fade away until the back of Steve's thighs were pressed to the tops of the priest's, and he was sitting in the man's lap. It was there that he had to pause, to let the sick, too-heavy drum of his heart ease and his harsh breathing calm.

"Good job, Steven," Father Thanos praised, large hand petting over Steve's hair and down his back. The weight of it, even as it kept moving, forced Steve's face to the man's naked, hairy chest, making Steve's lips curl in disgust. That hand landing on his keister though had the same effect, though it also made him clench down on the intrusion when fingers traced where he'd been penetrated, like his body was fighting off the potential of additional penetration. "You always take sacrament so much better than the other children, Steven."

Just hearing that version of his name coming from Father Thanos, the man who insisted on using Steve so, always made a furious anger flare through Steve's chest, but even brighter than the sun and hotter than any bonfire was the fury that Steve wasn't the only child forced to endure Father Thanos's sacrament. It was so intense that Steve thought it might actually be… hate.

Heavy hands settle on his waist over the rumpled gathering of his robes as soon as his breathing returned to normal, making his heart trip up again and his breathing hitch. He hoped this time would go quickly. Sometimes it did, sometimes it didn't. Sometimes time seemed to pass more quickly than others - it was always a gamble.

"Your bravery is truly commendable, and your will, enviable," the man was saying as his fingers tightened and he pulled Steve up his manhood.

It was a relief, to feel his body emptying of that too-thick, too-hard heat, but Steve knew the relief was only temporary. When just the head was inside him, there was a pause, a pause where Steve's mind almost succeeded in deluding him that this would be the end this time, that he wouldn't have to suffer the entire series of events, before the pressure at his waist eased and he was sliding back down the thick protrusion, being filled so full that it hurt. His fingers spasmed against the priest's chest and even that was something he had to control, had to make sure his nails didn't break the skin.

"I knew the moment I laid eyes on you that you were strong enough to take this special sacrament from Our Lord," Father Thanos continued, pulling Steve back up again. The pause before he dropped him was even shorter this time.

 _'More like you knew I was desperate enough to say 'yes' and to keep my silence from the authorities,'_ Steve thought venomously. He was never sure if it was the pain forcing his jaw tight that kept his words at bay or something else. It certainly wasn't any sort of survival instinct since Bucky was always telling him that he didn't have one and Bucky might actually turn out be right (for once).

"Your flesh is weak but your spirit is strong, young Steven," the priest said. "Turn around."

Steve unlocked his jaw just long enough to say "Yes, Father," before he had to lock it again, though this time it was from the effort of standing back up on shaking legs.

Hands at his hips kept him from pulling fully off of the priest's manhood, forced him to turn in a circle while the head of it stayed inside of him. As soon as he was turned around though, the hands left him, making his robes fall and making Steve pause, unsure of how to proceed. They returned a minute later, but under his knees rather than on his hips, and his feet were pulled from the bedspread without so much as a warning.

His yelp of surprise stuck in his throat, but Father Thanos's laugh was clear, deep enough to be more feeling than sound when Steve was tipped back until his back fell to the man's chest. That was his only point of balance for his legs were being held aloft by the priest's hands under his knees. He had little balance… and no leverage. It wasn't the first time he'd been held up like this, and it probably wouldn't be the last, and he still couldn't decide how terrible it actually was.

Father Thanos shifted a little further down the bed, his knees bending and planting on the mattress, and Steve swallowed hard. The shift in the priest's positioning was all Steve need to know that today would be quick but rough, and he still couldn't decide how terrible _that_ was either. Just like he could never decide if feeling pleasure from sacrament with Father Thanos was better than only feeling soreness.

Sure as the rain, the first time he was dropped into the priest's upward thrust, heat and ecstasy spread through his body like a mist. A sound jerked its way out his throat, one he wished he hadn't made and hoped hadn't been heard, only for a smile to be pressed to the back of his shoulder a moment later, easily felt even through the thick fabric of his robes. Just a smile though, not a kiss. Father Thanos hated kissing and many thanks to God for that. No, not a kiss, just a smile that told Steve he'd been heard, that his little failure had been noticed. A mocking without words.

So Steve bit his tongue for the next drop-and-thrust, and dug his short nails into his knobbly kneecaps, hard enough to feel it, hoping the pain would keep him focused. It didn't. His body lit up like the Fourth of July all the same, and for the first time this sacrament, his own manhood, his _boy_ hood, started to react, plumping and rising. Not that it could get very far when it wasn't very large, and when it was covered but it rose all the same. Steve ached to touch it, just so that he could take some of the responsibility for his own pleasure into his own hands, but Father Thanos didn't like when he did that either. He was forced to leave it alone, even when the need was bordering on desperation and his breathing and his heart were starting to dip.

He was jerked upward into the air again, and in the height of it, both hands were replaced with a single arm, leaving his knees hooked over Father Thanos's forearm as he came back down, fireworks sparking across his vision again. The man's other hand pulled Steve's robes up, leaving him bare from the wasit down, before that large hand landed on Steve's chest. The heavy weight pressed against Steve's sternum, keeping his back to Father Thanos's chest, and spanned from the pad of the priest's thumb in the hollow of Steve's throat to the tip of his pinky pressed to the hairless skin over Steve's boyhood. It seemed no effort for the former construction man to heft Steve up his length at a slight angle and let him fall back down, but it was hell on Steve's breathing.

Every one of the priest's thrusts made Steve's body light up, his boyhood throbbing, and punched air out of his lungs. He had to fling his head back onto the man's shoulder to fight for breath, his eyes gone sightless as his spirit ascended towards God.

"Are you ready to receive your sacrament?" Father Thanos murmured in his ear.

Steve didn't have the strength to nod his head, and his every attempt at saying 'Yes' turned into harsh pants that burned his throat, but the priest seemed to understand him just fine regardless. He should, when Steve had been receiving his sacrament for so long that his breathless attempts at acquiescence should long be familiar to the man.

The hand pressed to his chest shifted down, just far enough that Father Thanos's thick pinky could wrap around Steve's small boyhood, stroking once with the hook of his calloused finger. The touch sent sparks through Steve's groin and exploded through the rest of his limbs, turning his fingers and toes numb. His heartbeat was thick and heavy, pulsing through his groin and through his rear, though he knew the pulsing in his rear was Father Thanos's heart, not his own.

He could almost feel the liquid heat pouring into him, filling him with the priest's sacrament. And Steve had no illusion that it was the priest's sacrament and not God's. He was careful never to say as much in front of Father Thanos, but Steve knew anyway. A priest Father Thanos might be, but his touch left Steve feeling tainted, marked as a reject from Heaven.

Steve's eyesight cleared slowly, the room coming into fuzzy focus around him, blindness flaring minutely with the scrape of a cloth over his sensitive flesh and his belly. He was still sore and full, and his breathing still was still ragged if slower. It took a moment to realize he was sitting in Father Thanos's lap, no longer held aloft, and that the pulsing in his rear had calmed. After several attempts at wetting his dry throat, he finally spoke up, far too familiar with the script.

"Thank you for my sacrament, Father Thanos," Steve rasped, legs trembling as he tried to stand, and ultimately too weak to accomplish the task, making his face burn even though he was facing away from the priest.

"You're welcome, young Steven," Father Thanos replied, voice deep and rumbling, the vibrations into Steve's body making him shiver against his will.

The man behind and under him shifted, turning and letting his legs slide off the bed and onto the floor. A moment later, he lifted Steve off of him and Steve immediately clamped down tight on the release inside of him, not letting it leak out and slide down his legs. Father Thanos opened the small cabinet next to his bed and handed Steve his street clothes, and it took every bit of Steve's concentration to keep his hole clenched and to keep Father Thanos's sacrament inside as he hurriedly changed, trying to remain warm.

"You remember how to ensure God's blessing?" Father Thanos asked, staring down at Steve with his forearms braced on his spread knees. He was still naked and Steve carefully didn't look between his legs, just as carefully as he didn't meet the priest's eyes.

"Yes, Father Thanos," Steve said, nodding. "I must hold the sacrament within until I get home."

"Good, child," the priest murmured, resting his large hand on Steve's head. For a brief moment, Steve was struck by the thought that it would be obscenely easy for Father Thanos to kill him should things not go his way, and neither his mother nor Bucky would be able to do anything. "I will see you for your duties and your sacrament next week, Steven."

Steve gave a little bow and backed up to the door, stretching high to unlock the door and turn the knob. He turned back to the priest as he backed out the door, unwilling to let the man out of his sight any longer than necessary. "Goodbye, Father Thanos."

It was a relief, to close the door and put that barrier between them, and Steve quickly hurried his way out of the church. He couldn't go as fast as he'd like, not with the threat of the priest's sacrament leaking out of him, but he went as fast as he could. Not home, but to the first bathroom outside of the church that he could find, eager to clean the unpleasant, sticky substance from his body. There was no need to keep it inside when it wasn't God's blessing he was holding. _That_ he would probably never have, after what he'd done for him 'n' Buck. But maybe, tonight, Bucky could give Steve _his_ sacrament, and though it wasn't God's blessing, it would leave Steve feeling cleansed. At least enough to keep going another week.

FIN

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 **;-; At last. 'Tis done. Not being able to find the will to write no matter how strong the desire isn't fun. I only have one more SWN fics left and then I'm done! And in the meantime, I wish everyone a happy and prosperous NaNo!**

 **Like the thing? Reblog the thing (themadkatter13fanfiction tumblr, tagged/Sacramental-Sausage).**


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